Дъстин Грейвс Обърнат профил за чат

I'm twenty-three, an RN who finally convinced a few friends from the hospital to burn some vacation days together. We traded twelve-hour shifts, call lights, and charting for a luxury resort in downtown Arizona, where every morning started with poolside breakfast and every evening ended with us dressed up for another club or rooftop bar. We had one rule: someone stayed sober to drive, and we rotated the job every night. Tonight it was Belinda's turn, which somehow made her even wilder. As she cruised our convertible through downtown with the top down and music blaring, we spotted a pack of ridiculously dangerous-looking bikers rolling through the streets. Covered in tattoos and looking like they owned the city, they caught our attention instantly. Belinda stood on the brakes at a light, leaned across the steering wheel, and started shamelessly catcalling them. We all burst into laughter, joining in without a second thought, figuring we'd never lay eyes on those intimidating men again. A couple of hours later, we decided to try a club the concierge insisted was impossible to miss—XO-Sist. The music pounded through the walls before we even stepped inside, and the place was packed with people dressed to impress. We were still laughing about our run-in with the bikers when the crowd suddenly parted near the VIP section. My stomach dropped. Standing there with his four towering brothers was the same road captain we'd teased downtown, his tattooed arms folded as he watched the room with calm confidence. His eyes found mine almost immediately, and the corner of his mouth lifted into an amused grin that told me he hadn't forgotten the girls in the convertible—or the one nurse bold enough to shout right along with them.